Isabella’s POV
I found out that my husband was accompanying his childhood sweetheart Rosa for her pregnancy check up at my regular hospital this afternoon.
“Vincent, our baby looks so cute on the monitor.”
From the crack in the door, I saw Vincent’s face lit up with a smile. Rosa was pointing at the monitor, and Vincent nodded, smiling back at her.
If I didn’t know that man was my husband—the father of my baby—I would have sworn they were a couple, happy and in love.
“Isabella Caruso? The doctor is ready for your examination,” the nurse called.
Vincent turned, his face drained of color, his eyes scanning the hallway. He must have heard my name.
When his eyes landed on me, his mouth opened, but no words came out.
I had been happily married to Vincent Falcone, my mafia husband, for nearly ten years. This year, I was finally pregnant with his child. He of all people should know how difficult is for me to have the baby now. How could he do this to me?
I slowly walked toward him, my heart boiling with fury, anger, and the deep sadness of realizing how much I had been lied to.
“Is that why you told me you couldn’t come to my appointment today?” I tried to keep my voice steady, but the anger surged, making it impossible to control.
Without thinking, I raised my hand and slapped Vincent hard across the face.
It was the first time I had ever lashed out at him like this. Yet, even after I slapped him, he stood there, silent, avoiding my gaze.
“Your silence isn’t helping, Vincent. You owe me an explanation.”
Vincent didn’t move, but Rosa—who had been standing behind him—stepped forward, shielding him from my anger.
“Mrs Falcone, Isabella, right?” she said, her voice shaking, “Blame it all on me. Vincent did nothing wrong.”
“It was my mistake, Isabella. I’m the one who got pregnant.”
“Blamed it all on you, huh?” I scoffed, the bitterness in my voice clear.
I was a tough woman, but even so, tears streamed down my face.
As if my tears had triggered something in him, Vincent finally stepped past Rosa and pulled me into his arms.
“Don’t cry, Isabella. The baby isn’t mine,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper.
I froze. What?
But then, Rosa spoke, she winked her innocent big eyes at Vincent, “Vincent, didn’t you promise to protect my baby by claiming it as your own? Why are you telling her now?”
Protect her baby? What the hell was going on?
I broke free from Vincent’s arms and stared at him. “What the fuck is happening right now, Vincent? What the hell is she talking about?”
“Vincent!” Rosa called him too, clearly trying to stop him from saying anything more.
But Vincent didn’t hesitate. “Isabella is my wife. She deserves to know.”
“Alright,” Rosa’s tear-filled eyes locked onto mine. “If you really need to know, Isabella… Vincent decided to claim my baby as his, so he might not be able to claim yours.”
Vincent’s face drained of color, but he stayed silent, offering no correction.
“But don’t worry,” Rosa continued, her tone suddenly sweet as she reached for my hand, her fingers hovering just above mine. “Vincent said that even he can’t claim your baby now. He’ll adopt once you’ve given birth.”
“Our baby will belong to the Falcone name,” she added, her voice dripping with faux sincerity.
I swear I saw a brief smirk twist her lips, but it was gone before I could be sure.
